


Warm Feelings

by FlyDizzeeD



Series: Head Under Water [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Blind Character, Other, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 09:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12679551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyDizzeeD/pseuds/FlyDizzeeD
Summary: James is tired of people talking over Aaron





	Warm Feelings

James liked to think himself a very patient man. And for the most part, it was true. He was tested everyday by Thomas's often unintentional arrogance and had practiced fantastic patience in dealing with him. That was mostly because he loved the man and knew he (usually) meant no harm. There were times Thomas was outright hurtful, times he proved what an ass he could be. But more often, a gentle reminder to get off his damn high horse would ground him well enough. So, James considered himself well-versed in patience. He probably could have handled a preschool class with relative ease.

But sometimes, he would still snap.

It wasn't common, and he was never proud of it. He worked hard to remain composed and level-headed, applying what his public speaking courses had taught him to his everyday life. It would do him no good in the world of politics if he couldn't hold himself together in a debate. His meeting Aaron had been a relief. Thomas rarely made friends so calm. Aaron was fun to talk with, be around, go to dinner with. James respected Aaron's reluctance to talk of his personal matters, even though it was concerning at times when he could hear the wobble in his voice. Aaron was a private person and it would have been wrong for James to expect him to change around them. Instead, James offered what he could by helping to take Aaron's mind off of it. Thomas did the same. And even though he sucked at reading social cues or providing empathy, Thomas was trying his best and James was proud of him.

Aaron and James weren't fond of causing scenes, but they were still college boys who could get a bit carried away at the bar. So long as someone else started the mischief, they'd be happy to join in on a shitty off-pitch song or argue over the local rugby tournament. The bar was also a place where James would let Thomas have his arguments and his fun. Alex and his group typically started it anyway, according to Thomas. He'd sit next to Aaron, lean into the man when they laughed, and interfere when it seemed things were getting a bit too passionate. 

Since Aaron had joined them, James had learned even more about listening. Which was saying something since he was mostly dependent on listening. Usually when Thomas got into enough of a tangent, he'd nod along and just let the man get it all out. But he quickly learned that when Aaron did decide to share about something important to him, simply nodding along wasn't enough. He'd done it, once or twice, and the rate at which Aaron's openness died down was alarming. So James made sure to tune in, really listen, and talk. More often than not he was easily drawn in by whatever sparked Aaron to practically word vomit how he felt. In spite of public appearance, Aaron seemed very in tune with current events and was quite good at articulating his point and being direct about it. Exceedingly confident, but still with that thoughtful voice (even when he crammed months worth of spite into a paragraph). He also learned that Aaron would not talk over people. When Thomas, having just entered the room or just tuned in to the conversation, spoke up, he would quickly end his sentence and move on. The passion would burn out and the train would stop. 

Those were the times when James had the tendency to snap.

It was mostly a quick, “Thomas, please. Aaron was talking and you cut him off. Have some manners.” At which point it could go two ways. Thomas could get indignant and cruel in defense of himself, or he could over apologize and not speak again for the entire evening. He was a man of extremes. Regardless of the outcome, Aaron wouldn't continue his line of thought. An excuse to leave or insisting that someone else talk was par for the course. And when they were out drinking with their “friends” it wasn't that different. So James tune in, smiled, and patiently let Aaron prattle that Friday night. It was just starting to get cold out and the whiskey left a welcome warmth in him that would be replaced by heavy jackets and hot chocolate as the season swept through the city. Having both grown up in the same southern town, neither Thomas nor James were particularly fond of the cold. But more often than not, Manhatten proved to be worth the biting chill.

He could feel the warmth from Aaron, too. From where they were pressed together in the booth, shoulder to shoulder because they liked it that way, not because of any lack of space. He couldn't see Aaron's smile, but he could hear and feel his measured laugh, which supplied its own kind of warmth. The topic was more casual. 

“Listen, all I'm saying, really, is that Olive Garden absolutely counts as fine dining.” Said Alex.

“Alexander, this is New York City and the best you can do is Olive Garden?” Asked Aaron, his laugh leaking into the end of it as he nudged James.

James shrugged. “I mean, it's not like any of us have money.” He pointed out, to which Alex immediately insisted the opposite. “Um, did you forget Thomas is at the table? Y'know, Thomas Jefferson? The money man, man of money? Got into college on daddy's bank--”

“James, I'm just telling you because you can't see it, but the green of jealousy does not suit Alex's complexion.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

By then Aaron (admittedly on the way to drunk) was giggling like crazy. They all followed suit, except Alex, who was licking his wounds. Their laughter was interrupted by Herc's booming voice, which often startled the shit out of James. When the man wasn't nearly yelling, he was entirely silent, and the split second change was quite the shock. Thankfully, James was a bit too busy smacking away the hand Thomas had reached behind Aaron to jab him with while he laughed at his own joke, so the noise didn't get more than a slight flinch out of him. Aaron responded in kind, patting James's shoulder and-- when had he put his arm around James anyway? 

“I really think Olive Garden is more about the experience. I mean; tons of salad, and you get those little mints at the end.” Hercules weighed in, loud but thoughtful. 

“Precisely.” Said Alex. “It's the experience. Nice lighting, fancy Italian words, the whole thing. Fine dining,” he paused, there was a swallow, the sound of a glass being set down, so he probably took a shot, “at an affordable price.”

Aaron hummed before responding. “There are definitely better alternatives. Better price but same quality. Have you--”

He was cut off by Thomas.

“I'm not mooching off my father, either.* He said, as though he hadn't even heard Aaron speaking. “I made my money.”

It was met with a scoff, which was so utterly Alex it hurt. “Making money through a job under your father is the same thing. He would've paid regardless.”

Aaron tried again. “You don't know the whole situation, Alexander. Thomas--”

“You're really too harsh on one another sometimes.” Hercules said. “Do you ever, I don't know, talk about things you do have in common?”

James could feel a headache coming on. Why did their conversations always have to go south? Aaron's arm was still around him, his hand holding his shoulder and squeezing slightly. He reached up to pat the hand in what was hopefully reassuring enough. With a sigh, Aaron tried once more.

“You both like--”

“Herc, babe, you know I try. I try all the damn time! Doesn't mean anything if old money farm boys insist on being ignorant.” Fuck's sake, James could hear the eyeroll.

“Alexander, name-calling is a lesser-man's game and you're just making--”

“At least I went to a damn elementary school. What did you do again? Read when the ocean wasn't trying to actively kill you? By the time you could write I was learning Algebra.”

“Thomas!” James finally snapped. “Uncalled for. Christ's sake. You should understand people can't help how they grow up. Remember those damn switches? You both went through shit, you're both adults now, and you're just acting like toddlers. It's a bar. Save the debates for later.” He said, and then cursed, and started again. “And could you please stop talking over Aaron? You might've been raised differently but I know you were raised with some manners.” 

Alex practically squeaked, then stammered, then argued. “You can't talk over someone who never has anything to say.” 

That's about when James was grateful Aaron didn't have long nails, because they would have been digging into his flesh. Instead, Aaron's grip just tightened and the tremble that ran through his arm was easy for James to feel. When he spoke, his voice was as calm as ever. His usual smooth, low tone was however much shakier.

“You can't expect someone to have something to say when they're so used to being talked over.” He said, then added, “Or having it used against them.”

There wasn't a response to that, and the booth got oddly quiet. There were only five of them, but that was plenty enough for the tension to rise. Thomas had reached behind Aaron again to hold onto James's free shoulder, which seemed to mostly be an excuse to put his arm around Aaron. James was more aware of other people's feelings, but Thomas had a habit of being intensely protective. He figured it stemmed from him always assuming he had to watch out for James when they were younger. There had even been times when Thomas was protective over Alex or one of his friends. They were within his circle. And Aaron was, too, albeit a relatively new addition. 

“We're gonna go.” Aaron said, eventually breaking the silence. Without hesitation James slid out of the booth and helped Aaron out as well, Thomas quickly following the two. Nothing more than a brief wave from James was offered as a farewell. They'd definitely had worse nights out before. That wasn't even the top five. But it wasn't great either. 

James felt a hand in his, recognized it as Thomas's, and relaxed considerably. He didn't need Thomas to guide him, but the connection made them both feel better as the three of them set out on the short, chilly walk home. 

“I meant you too, Thomas. You all need to stop talking over Aaron.” James said, breaking the silence they'd fallen into.

“I know.”

“I know you know. But you need to try.”

“Alex just--”

James stopped that train immediately. “This isn't an Alex thing,” he started, “This is an Aaron thing. About Aaron. He deserves some damn respect. And it's about you letting people get to you.”

“It really isn't that big a deal.” Said Aaron. “It was just about restaurants. I don't care that much.”

Shaking his head, James sighed. “It's the principle of the thing. Thomas, I love you, but you're an ass sometimes.”

“Working on it.”

“That's all I ask.”

And they fell back into relative silence again, but it was notably less awkward. Eventually James reached out and grabbed Aaron's hand in his free one, earning a surprised yelp from the man. He locked their fingers together and didn't say a word about it as they continued back to the dorm building. Neither did Aaron.

**Author's Note:**

> Short one-shot addition to this series set a few weeks after the first part.  
> Different works in the series will have different "points of view."  
> All parts are in chronological order.


End file.
